


Dawn

by crossingwinter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, GoT spoilers, a short fluff because i'm tired and screaming and let them rest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: Amidst the wreckage of the battle, Gendry searches for Arya.





	Dawn

 

Gendry finds the spear he made for her on the battlements, broken in two, but there is no sign of her.

 _She can't be dead,_ is all he can think as he picks up the fragmented handle.   _No.  No, she can't be._

It's cold, and still, and quiet, and dawn is fading into the sky, black to silver grey.  The color of House Stark.  It would not be dawning silver, if she were dead.  It would not be dawning at all, if she were dead.

So on he goes.

His bones ache, his muscles scream for rest.  He sees people wandering around listlessly.  Someone is trying to organize the cleanup of the courtyard.  He thinks he hears someone shout his name.  But it doesn't matter.  He's not needed here, not now.  No one really is.  The dead are truly dead, and he has to find Arya.

 _The godswood,_ he thinks.  That's where they left Bran.  She loves so intensely, so fiercely, she'd go to see if Bran had survived it all.  So he stumbles through snow and blood and guts and dirt and fragmented rock and charred wood.  He passes more corpses, passes more wounded.  He sees the corpse of the ice dragon, dead for good this time, and passes through the gate into the still woods.

It's so still.  That's something he's always liked about the woods.  He's a city boy, stillness doesn't happen.  Maybe that's why he loves Arya so much.  She was there when he first learned how to be still, she helped him survive when he couldn't tell north from south.  The wind rustles in the leaves around him and for a moment, he's back in the Riverlands with her and Hot Pie.

That's when he sees her, sitting in the snow by her brother's chair, looking up at the carved wooden face in the white weirwood tree.  But as he approaches, his footsteps crunching through the snow, she turns to him, and is on her feet.  She launches herself out him, her arms around his neck, her lips against his, and he feels warm for the first time in what feels like years, even if it's only been hours.

"I knew you weren't dead," he tells her.

"No," she smiles at him.  She has such a beautiful smile, it lights up her whole face. "I'm not.  I'm glad you're not too."  His arms tighten around her and he kisses her again for no other reason than that he can, that he can't help himself.  

They kiss, and kiss, and the sky gets lighter around them, and when they stop kissing, Arya rests her head against his chest.

"Let's sleep," she says at last.  "I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years."

**Author's Note:**

> oiahtwenf;aewkfsdnl;lkawegsdzv;oinklgre about MY FUCKING QUEEN TBQH
> 
> twitter.com/crossing_winter  
> pillowfort.social/crossingwinter


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